


I Want A Man With A Slow Hand

by thefourofswords



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Anal Sex, First Time, Idiots in Love, M/M, Masturbation in Shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:02:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27975542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefourofswords/pseuds/thefourofswords
Summary: “Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids.“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.”“What do you like in bed?”*Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 33
Kudos: 347





	I Want A Man With A Slow Hand

**Author's Note:**

> This is set some time after 8x06 and pretty much goes AU from there. There was just no way I could let that revelation that Danny keeps up on just how much Steve is having sex pass by without doing something. All of Danny's thoughts on masturbation are his own. 
> 
> Thanks to routineriots and joyfulseeker for audiencing. This is unbeta'd, so any mistakes are mine. Title is from "Slow Hand" By Maja Kristina, which just struck me as hilariously appropriate.

Steve is pretty attentive in bed, Danny knows, because Lynn told Melissa who told him, but she’d also said he was...what was the word she used? Distant? Between that and the infrequency of their sex life, Danny would assume that was surely that relationship’s death knell. 

But Melissa had also been told by Cath once that nobody would ever walk out of Steve McGarrett’s bed dissatisfied, but the intensity that he brought to everything else in his life was somehow missing, that it had just gotten worse over time. 

“Do you think he doesn’t like sex?” Melissa speculated one evening when the kids were with Rachel and they had the place to themselves. They were sitting on the couch splitting a bottle of wine after a lovely dinner, or more accurately, he was sitting and she was lying down with her head pillowed in his lap and her feet propped up on the arm. Melissa liked to armchair Steve, which suited Danny just fine, since he was looking for all the help he could possibly get wrangling the guy, and lord knows their therapist was no help. And through Lynn she had access to a part of Steve that Danny didn’t, and he considered that very valuable intel. 

Danny snorted. 

“What? It’s not that uncommon,” she said, “I mean, I think maybe more common for women, but who knows how much that’s social conditioning?” 

“Steve likes sex,” Danny explained. “At least he’s made an effort to pick women up before.” 

“Like one time, on that retreat thing you guys had to do for work,” she pointed out. “And I’m not sure—” she abruptly cut herself off and shook her head. 

“What?” Danny asked, nudging at her. It was certainly true that Steve turned down many, many more offers than he accepted, but that didn’t mean the guy didn’t like sex. 

“No, it’s nothing,” she replied, but her eyes had shifted away and she got that vaguely guilty cast about her face, like there was something she was actually dying to tell him, but also very much didn’t want to. Any cop worth their salt knew that face and just how to exploit it. 

“‘You’re not sure…?’” he prompted, bouncing his knee under her head and running a teasing hand down her side, right to where he knew she was ticklish. Just the hint of a warning of what would come if she didn’t ‘fess up. 

“Ugh,” she put her hands over her eyes like she couldn’t say it and look him in the face at the same time. Oh boy, this would be good. This was the same way she’d hid her face before asking if they could try roleplay in bed. 

“C’mon,” he cajoled. 

“I, just—don’t be weird about this—okay, because he’s your friend and he cares about you,” she said, voice nasally and muffled by her palms. 

“What, why would I be—” 

“I think he wanted to have a threesome with you,” she interrupted in a rush. 

“What?” he leaned away from her in shock and surprise. Perhaps that was a few decibels above his normal conversational level, but he thought he could damn well be forgiven when his girlfriend went around dropping bombs like that about his best friend and the man his kids called ‘uncle.’ 

“I said ‘don’t be weird’, Danny!” she hissed, dropping her hands. 

“You just said you thought he didn’t like sex!” he hissed back. 

“Okay, I know, but—” 

“Oh, there’s a but,” he said with an expansive gesture, “‘but for the wild salacious threesome’ you think he wanted to have while we were supposed to be working?” 

“Well, I dunno, he was pretty upset when you didn’t play wingman for him, and you said that chick was practically a sure thing by the end of the plane ride!” 

“He broke my ankle!” 

“He didn’t break your ankle!” 

“I don’t care, I’m telling you he didn’t want a threesome,” Danny replied, “Jesus, Melissa, how many glasses of wine have you had?” 

She looked pointedly over at her nearly full glass. 

“Well which is it then? He doesn’t like sex, or he wants a threesome!” 

She sat up now, crossing her arms. “Maybe, have you ever considered that he doesn’t like sex because he’s gay? That maybe he thought experimenting with a friend would be a good way to figure out? Or that maybe, just maybe, he’s in love with you?” 

“No, I have not considered that,” Danny said, shooting to his feet, “because that’s obviously complete crazy talk. Why are you saying this to me?” 

She crossed her arms across her chest, a mulish expression on her face. “I didn’t want to!” 

“You did want to!” Danny shouted. 

“Because I thought you should know, and I hoped you wouldn’t be an asshole about it,” Melissa shouted back. “You’re so worried about him all the time! Have you ever considered that you might be his problem?” 

“Have I fucking considered—” Danny cut himself off with an incoherent growl. “Yes, I’ve considered it. I hired that damn stress expert.” 

“I told you not to do that,” she pointed out. “I told you he wouldn’t take it well.” 

“And I accepted that,” Danny replied, “because what the fuck else was I supposed to do? The love of his life left him to be tortured and killed in Afghanistan, then did it again right before he was about to propose, then he nearly died on a beach because of some stupid fucking drug runners, necessitating a very painful operation on my part—” 

“Yes, yes, Danny, we all know how noble you are for giving him half of your precious liver.” 

“Noble! I didn’t do it to be noble! I did it because he was going to die. You telling me I should’ve put my hands together and prayed the transplant list came up with one in four hours?” 

“Cath was _not_ the love of his life,” she said, pivoting hard. 

“What?” Danny stared at her confused. He hated how these arguments always seemed to be about one thing, but were actually about another. 

“Cath was not the love of his life,” she said, enunciating very clearly and slowly like Danny was stupid. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. And you know this how? From all the hours and hours you’ve spent risking life and limb with Steve?” he shot back. “Who are you to say that to me?” 

“Who am I?” she replied, shooting to her feet. “That’s right, Danny, who am I? Am I your girlfriend of five years? Or maybe I’m just somebody you kill time with until Rachel’s divorce is finalized and you can go back to who you really want.” 

“Back to who I really want?” he repeated. “Are you kidding me?” 

“I dunno, Danny,” she said, gathering up her purse and her keys and stuffing her feet into her shoes. “All I know is you can’t say you love me, and you just spent more on that stupid stress expert than you ever have on me.” 

Danny let out a shocked guffaw. “Are you—are you jealous? Of Steve? You want me to buy you things? Is that what you think a relationship is?” 

Melissa paused in front of the door, her back to him. “No, Danny,” she said with a soft sigh, voice sounding sad now. She turned back around. “I just—I know where I fall on your list of priorities and it’s after Steve. And I get it, he’s easy to love.” Danny couldn’t help a small scoff at that. She smiled a little, but her eyes stayed sad. “And god knows I love you. But if what we have is real, I’m pretty sure I’m supposed to come before your best friend.”

“You’re calling it quits,” Danny said slowly. “This conversation started with you thinking Steve wanted a threesome with me of all things, and now you’re calling it quits.” 

She shrugged a shoulder, and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “I...knew it was coming. I thought if I could just love you enough, love the kids enough, be the perfect girlfriend—”

“You are the perfect girlfriend,” he said automatically. 

She blew out a breath. “And yet you still can’t say ‘I love you.’”

Danny opened his mouth, but nothing came out. 

She pursed her lips and nodded, eyes shimmering at the corners. “That’s what I thought.” 

*

Probably the surest sign that she’d made the right decision walking out was that he got drunk that night, went to the gym the next day and tried his best to pummel the stuffing out of the punching bag, took a hot shower, and...well. Realized he was not really that upset. He’d miss her company. And the sex. But. Well, it’s not like he couldn’t say ‘I love you’ because he lacked commitment. His mother had once called him the most over-committed man on the planet. But he was also honest, and even if it would’ve been better to just lie and say it, it wasn’t in him to do that to her. That said, if Danny Williams was going to get dumped over Steve’s stupid love life, he was damn well going to get to the bottom of it. Not the threesomes part, because that was obviously some crazy fever dream where she’d put two and two together and come up five. Steve and threesomes? With Danny? Laughable. But Steve and his weird ‘not that into sex’ thing? That he could deal with. 

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids. 

“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.” 

“What do you like in bed?” 

Steve didn’t answer right away, he waited until they were pulled up to a light and then looked over at Danny with an incredulous expression. “Really?” 

“Yes, really,” Danny replied. 

“Do I need to send you on that new hire workplace harassment training along with Tani?” 

Danny rolled his eyes. He’d never heard an emptier threat in his entire life. “Don’t wanna say for some reason?” 

Steve snorted as he pulled up to the curb next to a crowd of uniformed officers and yellow crime scene tape and put the car in park. “What’s there to say?” He asked as he undid his seatbelt. “You looking to spice things up with Melissa or something?” 

Danny cleared his throat. “We broke up,” he said, before getting out of the car. 

“What?” Steve asked over the roof of the Camaro. 

Danny shrugged. “A few days ago. As Grace would say, ‘NBD,’ right?” 

“NBD?” Steve repeated incredulously, “You’ve been with her for a long time.” 

Danny shrugged again. “Weren’t you guys just pointing out that I didn’t love her?” 

“That was Lou,” Steve said quickly, “I didn’t say anything!” 

Danny shook his head. “Well, it turns out she agreed with him.” 

“You’re being very calm about this,” Steve said, like he expected it was a trick and at moment Danny would explode into a violent outburst of emotionalism, which was—not altogether unfair. 

“I guess it had run its course,” he replied. “Now, you gonna answer the question?” 

“You wanna talk about this now?” Steve asked. “With two dead bodies over there?” 

Danny winced. Okay, so his timing wasn’t great. 

*

“Do you want me to go first?” Danny asked two nights later, sitting in the car. They were posted up at the back entrance of a mall, Tani and Junior monitoring the side exit, and Lou and Jerry at the front. 

“What?” Steve said without looking away from the shoppers coming in and out of the breezeway. 

“You know? Break the ice?” 

Steve shot him a look. “About?” 

“You know,” Danny motioned. “What I’m into. In bed.” 

Steve stared at him for a long moment. “Yeah, Danno, why don’t you do that,” he said, like he didn’t really think Danny was serious. 

But Danny was dead serious, and what’s more he was motivated. Steve told him after the stress counselor that he didn’t want him to change his behavior to be “less stressful.” He wasn’t going to let them put plants in his office or scale back his duties in the field, but they could surely figure out a way to give him a nice jumpstart of endorphins in the form of orgasms. It could be lifesaving!

“I’m easy,” Danny started off, pointedly ignoring Steve’s scoff. “I like sex most ways.” 

“Pretty standard,” Steve replied, like he was only half paying attention. 

“But,” Danny said, clearing his throat and gazing out the windshield. “I like being able to make other people feel so good they come undone, when you can get them right where they live? I like all of that, kissing them, and tasting them.” 

Steve’s drumming on the steering wheel stopped. 

“I love when it’s wet and messy and people lose themselves in it, so it feels like you can see a part of their realest self. I like when they know what they want, but I also like being able to surprise them.” Okay, maybe he was getting a little too into it just thinking about it. He tried to tug surreptitiously on his pant leg to give himself a little relief from the sudden unexpected constriction of his trousers. 

Steve shifted in his seat, and Danny glanced over because Steve had been trained to sit stock still in a sniper blind for days at a time, and shifting in his seat was just not something he did. Danny dropped his gaze to Steve’s lap and...well. Maybe he wasn’t the only one so affected. 

“Damn it, that’s our guy!” Steve said, and then he was reversing out of the parking space and turning around so fast it threw Danny back in his seat. 

“Christ,” Danny shouted, inappropriate erection forgotten. “What the hell, fast and furious!” 

“Don’t want to lose him,” Steve growled, and that was very much the end of that. 

*

“You know, I went first,” Danny said, setting the steaming dish of eggplant parmigiana down in the middle of the dining room table. It wasn’t a bribe or anything. He’d been craving it himself. Nevermind that he didn’t really like eggplants, and if he’d been making it for himself he would’ve subbed them out for chicken. 

Steve didn’t play dumb this time. “I never agreed to any quid pro quo,” he said with a grin as he dished out a large portion onto his plate. 

Danny let out an outraged squawk. “I share with you, I invite you to my house, I make you this nice dinner—” 

“Alright!” Steve interrupted. “Simmer down, Danno, I’ll tell you.” 

When he then proceeded to say exactly nothing, Danny started reaching for his plate. 

Steve yanked the plate out of his reach. “Gimme a moment would you? This is not exactly easy to talk about.” 

Realization dawned and Danny dropped his eyes to the table, right where the wood obscured Steve’s lap. “Do you have—” 

“What?” Steve replied, looking horrified. “No! No I do not!” 

“I mean, I hear it’s a fairly common side effect of post traumatic stress and you’ve definitely--”

Steve interrupted him by setting his plate down with a thunk. “For fuck’s sake,” he said, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes heavenward. “I do not have erectile dysfunction. Sex is just tricky when…” he sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face “when other people feel more strongly about you than you do about them.”

“What does that mean?” Danny replied, brows raised. ‘People.’ Steve hadn’t gendered them. Interesting. Score one for following his instincts there. 

Steve had a pained look on his face, like he’d rather be disabling landmines than talking about this. “It means that—people are often more interested in me than I am in them. That they’re more attracted to me than I am to them.” 

“Are you serious?” Danny said, affronted. 

“Yes, I’m—” 

“Because I don’t know what people have been telling you, you’re good looking yeah, but you’re not like, a god,” Danny replied, possibly lying through his teeth, because if nothing else he considered it his solemn duty to remind Steve that despite his extraordinary gifts, he was still mortal. 

“It’s not about what I look like,’’ Steve growled. “I mean it is—but not for the reasons you think. It’s about them wanting me for my face or my body, my abilities, my job, my rank. They esteem those things so highly that who I am underneath all of that doesn’t really matter, but also people just…” Steve made a gesture with his hand that Danny couldn’t interpret. 

“They just what?” 

“They’re so fucking desperate to please me, to get me to like them it—it can be offputting.” Danny was just opening his mouth to rail at Steve’s unending arrogance when Steve said, “And it’s a lot of power to give someone that they don’t even know, and I’m always aware of how easily I could abuse that. It’s—I dunno—it’s kind of suffocating.” 

Danny stared at him, warmth building in his chest. God Steve was such a good human. It was almost unbearable sometimes. 

“Anyway, it’s not whatever you’re thinking it is,” Steve said, shifting under Danny’s gaze uncomfortably. 

Danny dropped his gaze and finally dished out a piece of eggplant onto his own plate. “Eat your food before it gets cold,” he said gruffly. 

“Well, I was trying to, before Mr. Neverending Questions About My Sex Life got started,” Steve grumbled. 

Well if that’s how he wanted to play it. Danny did have many more where that came from. He grinned. “So, what about Lynn then? What do you like with her?” 

He was surprised when Steve answered easily, "I'm...not sure we're 100% compatible in the bedroom, but I like her, she's fun to be with."

“Okay wait, maybe I should back up,” Danny said, fatherly instincts kicking in. “Do you...like...sex? At all? Because it’s okay if—” 

Steve laughed. “I enjoy sex. Good sex. What she wants and what I want are just a little bit different.” 

“Are you into S and M or something?” Danny asked, unable to help himself. 

Steve stared at him. “Having been on the business end of being tortured more than once, I can safely say that no, no I do not enjoy ‘S and M’,” Steve replied dryly. 

Danny winced. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t—that was—I shouldn’t have said that.”

Steve snorted a laugh like he wasn’t actually bothered. 

“I just worry, okay? This is a longterm relationship, you like sex, she likes sex, you should enjoy sex together. Why be in this otherwise? I genuinely do not understand,” Danny explained. “Do you masturbate excessively? Does your sex drive just dry up from neglect?”

Steve shrugged. "I use it. I put that energy back into the work."

Danny nearly dropped his fork to his plate in horror. If Steve was just this crazy because he’d been rampantly HORNY for years Danny would kill him with zero remorse. 

Before he could even sputter out a reply Steve said with absolutely no shame at all, “Yeah, I masturbate. Nobody can get me off better than I can.” 

“Says who?” he demanded, indignant. “You don’t know that!” 

But Steve misinterpreted the look on his face entirely. "Take it easy, Tiger, you won't go blind if you try it."

Now wait a minute, Danny was not at all anti-masturbation, but he also wasn't going to favor it when he had a willing partner he liked. That'd be crazy. Who did that? People who’d had bad sex.

Steve continued, “Besides, you have never spaced? Or pictured somebody else in bed? Or fantasized about something different? Not once in your life?” 

“Yes, when my marriage was falling apart. That was bad sex,” Danny shot back. 

Steve threw up his hands. "What do you want me to do, just dump Lynn because the sex is mediocre?"

“I mean, yes," Danny explained, "but I'm far more concerned with the fact that I don't know if you've ever really had good sex in your entire stupid regimented life.”

“Jesus christ, Danno, I've had good sex. It's also just not a high priority, I am perfectly qualified to take care of myself.” Steve replied, blowing out a frustrated breath. “I've had a lot of fucking practice.”

“Well that's just it, isn't it, lead for brains? You have to be willing to let someone else do that,” Danny growled, equally frustrated. 

Steve laughed bitterly. "I don't know if you've noticed, but that has not served me particularly well in life."

“Hey," Danny said, "what about me? Huh? Whose liver is currently regulating your metabolism?”

Steve sat back in his chair, his face going soft. “I'm not discounting you.”

“This is good, because I have looked into lawsuits for getting it back, you know,” Danny replied, dropping his own eyes, because he hadn’t done it for Steve’s gratitude. Not in the slightest. 

“You've done enough, you don't need to go offering to get me off, too.” 

Danny jerked his head up. “Who's offering WHAT now?” 

Steve smiled that stupid arrogant smile that drove Danny batty. “You said you take care of me, but there’s no need for that.”

"I did no such thing,” Danny insisted. 

“Got pretty pressed there,” Steve said, turning back to his plate.

“You implied,” Danny said with deliberate emphasis, “very plainly that nobody in your life could be trusted!”

“In the context of sex, Danno, jesus. I'm not just writing you, and Lou and Chin and Kono off."

"I bet Chin would, if you asked really nice," Danny speculated, "Kono is probably a harder get, but Lou is definitely a strikeout.”

"I'll keep that in mind," Steve said mildly.

“And I wasn't offering to...do that thing you suggested, but if, _if_ I did, I'd blow yourfucking mind.”

“Solid copy,” Steve replied. “Can I finish my dinner now?” 

*

“Okay, but, when?” Danny asked apropos of nothing. They were both sitting, or in Danny’s case, lying on the couch, in Steve’s office, waiting on some lab results before they could do anything further, and Danny was bored. 

“I don’t _know_ when mass spec results will be back,” Steve replied, not looking away from his laptop screen. 

“No,” Danny corrected. “When do you masturbate? Like how do you even have time? I’ve lived with you. When are you even managing it? We’re called away at all hours of the night. You’ve got a long term girlfriend. And then there’s me. I’ve never walked in on you, not once.” 

“Let me get this right,” Steve replied, shutting his laptop. “You thought I wasn’t making enough time to have sex with my girlfriend, but now you’re worried about how I’m finding the time to masturbate?”

“I mean, if you’re just rushing through it, like you do with those three minute showers...” Danny replied. “And you’re happy with that?” 

Steve stared at him. “Listen, try cranking one out in theater late at night in the desert cold with your unit at 25% watch.” He leaned back in his chair. “Being on a bed with 300 thread count sheets is pure fucking luxury after that.” 

“In theater? IN THEATER?” Danny demanded, sitting up on the couch. “You masturbated in a warzone?”

“Yes!” Steve replied. “Sometimes! It’s a pretty standard way to blow off steam.” 

“I do not believe this!” Danny replied, shaking his head. “You are some...deviant. I always knew this, but masturbating in a warzone? You are just wired differently. No wonder the stress lady thought you were hopeless.” 

Steve snorted. “Picture yourself shipping out at 18. Do you really think anybody could’ve stopped you?”

“I—” Danny started, and then thought back to his own days in college, with that forever nascent arousal boiling under the surface. And he’d only had to navigate the one roommate. “Fine, but just saying, if those were your options, it’s no wonder you’re willing to settle for your right hand.” 

“I have _had_ good sex!” Steve insisted. 

“Where your brain wandered apparently,” Danny replied, settling himself back down onto the couch. He muttered to himself, “You clearly weren’t doing it right.” 

“What was that?” 

“You weren’t doing it right!” Danny said, louder. 

“Doing what right?” Tani asked as she barged in through the door without so much as a knock. She tossed a folder down onto Steve’s desk. “Got the results you were waiting on.”

Steve opened the folder up, looked it over, and then nodded quickly. He tossed it to Danny. “C’mon, we’ve got work to do.” 

*

The more he thought about it, the more he decided it really was a travesty that Steve was in a relationship with mediocre (read: bad) sex. That he thought masturbating on a mattress was the pinnacle of orgasmic achievement. That was just sad. But Steve had set up some pretty strict conditions. Where was Danny gonna find people (ahem) who couldn’t be too enamored of his face, body, job, rank, and abilities? That left people who hated his guts, and while he was quite certain some of those people would, in fact, enjoy having 100% consensual sex with Steve just for the hatefuck aspect, he didn’t think Steve was up to that. That was advanced level fucking. Steve was not there yet. 

There was Danny himself, but he couldn't go offering to have sex with him. They worked together and were building a restaurant together, and best friends, and he’d filled the hole in his kids' lives that Matt had left. It was too much. Danny was not reckless. He was also 40. He couldn’t be having friends with benefits arrangements with his buddies at 40. That would be weird.

...but what if now he was noticing Steve's stupid forearms, and the way the light hit his eyes, and the athletic line of his body. He wound up working himself up over it so good that when he got home after too many hours of work that night, covered in muck and grime and blood that wasn’t his, he found himself jerking off in the shower _about Steve_ and the way he’d looked, grinning with manic glee at getting to blow things up and shoot bad guys. 

“That only happened because I went from having regular sex to no sex,” he announced to his bathroom after he’d finished showering and all evidence of his activities was safely washed down the drain. “Brains...wander. Steve said it himself.” 

*

As far as he could figure, Steve needed somebody who understood his background, who knew the incredible losses life had dealt him, who understood about his psychopath mother, and the well-intentioned neglect he’d suffered at the hands of his father. Somebody who also got that Steve had fun skirting the bleeding edge of death, but also knew how to rein him in. And that somebody couldn’t be Danny for many very obvious and important reasons. Not the least of which was that Danny wasn’t interested in men, aberrant bathroom activities aside. 

“What about Ellie?” he asked Steve over a plate of shrimp at Kamekona’s. 

Steve chewed, swallowed his bite, and then set down his fork to wipe his mouth with a napkin before responding with narrowed eyes. “What about her?” he asked warily. 

“I always kinda wondered if that was going somewhere, you know?” Danny told him, ignoring the lump forming in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what that was about anyway. 

“Even if I would consider breaking up with Lynn just to sleep with her friend,” Steve replied, “it’s not possible.” 

“Why not?” Danny asked, annoyed. 

“Well, Danno,” Steve replied, eyes dancing with mischief, “Ellie is probably more interested in what’s in Lynn’s pants than mine.” 

“Ugh, why are you so troublesome?” Danny asked sourly, hurling his own fork down in disgust, very much ignoring the strange sense of relief welling up inside him. 

“Me?” Steve said with a laugh. “You’re the one who’s all worked up over this. I told you I’m fine.” 

Danny replied, darkly. “You are _not fine_. You are so many levels away from fine, if you looked up the word deranged in the dictionary they probably have diagrams of you in there.” 

“I haven’t seen you going on any dates lately,” Steve pointed out. 

Danny opened his mouth to reply, but Steve grinned, picked up his empty plate, and booked it for the trash. 

“They call this avoidance!” Danny called to his retreating back.

*

It was unlike Steve to still be showering when Danny came to pick him up, or rather, drove his car to Steve’s place so that Steve could then drive them both to the office. Why did he forever allow such indignities? He was unsure what possessed him to go upstairs and yell at Steve about it, but it got him here, standing in Steve's bathroom where Steve was also standing, just wet and naked under the shower spray, with his cock in his hand. It was a very nice cock. Like any part of Steve would dare to be less than perfect. 

“You’re letting the cold air in,” Steve said, tilting his head back under the spray as he kept stroking. Shafts of sunlight streaming in through the windows made visible by steam seemed to light him up like he was glowing from within, throwing every plane of muscle into sharp relief. God, he was beautiful. 

“I’m letting the—” Danny sputtered. He growled, “What cold air?” 

Danny, who was so rarely at a loss for words, would not be able to explain how he got from the door to standing under the spray with Steve, still fully dressed and in his shoes for fuck's sake. He just knew he had to be touching him, and right now. 

“Danno, what—” Steve started, surprised, goggling at Danny like he was the crazy one. His criminally long lashes have gone even darker with water. Should a man be allowed to be this handsome?

“C’mere, you idiot,” Danny interrupted, and dragged him down for a kiss. A good one. Because Danny knew what those were like, unlike this fool. He kissed him with all the pent up worry and fear and frustration, pushing him back into the tile and pressing in close with his entire body, palm at Steve’s nape and the other at his naked hip. The noise Steve made as he opened his mouth against him like he’d been waiting for this, went straight to Danny’s cock. 

“Of course you take cold showers,” Danny said when he pulled back, brushing his wet hair back off his forehead. He was still staring into Steve’s eyes, wondering, not for the first time what color they really were. Right that moment they seemed an almost impossible deep aqua. 

“It’s not cold,” Steve said reflexively, but his cheeks were pink and he was staring at Danny’s mouth. 

“Lukewarm,” Danny amended. 

“I run hot,” Steve said mischievously. “Especially after a swim.” 

And then they were kissing again, which Danny figured he should be struggling with, but instead he was mostly thinking about how fucking smooth Steve’s skin was beneath his palms and how good that plush and pouty lower lip tasted. He reached a hand down to stroke Steve’s erection, almost waiting for some kind of gay panic to set in, but his fist closed around the hard flesh without more than a thought for just how perfectly the shaft fitted his palm. 

Abruptly, Steve pulled his mouth away, pressing his forehead to Danny’s. "This...maybe isn't the place for it."

"On your sad mattress?" Danny asked, moving back just enough to tug his wet shirt away from his skin. How did Steve get him into these things? He used to be a completely normal person. 

"Oh, it's a good mattress, Danno,'' Steve said against his ear, "you don't spend years lying on the cold hard ground with nothing but your gear for a pillow and then come back and ask for more of that."

He turned the tap off without a backward glance and then, in the sudden hush, said, “May I?” 

“Please,” Danny said, waiting to see what Steve would do next. A part of him figured he’d just tear Danny’s shirt straight off his body, which would’ve been hot in it’s own way, but the way Steve kissed him while gently easing the buttons out of the wet fabric and pushing it off his shoulders was something else. They were surrounded by the steady drip drip drip of water, and each drop that fell from Steve’s skin to Danny’s felt like a benediction. 

“I love you,” Danny said on sudden unstoppable impulse as he helped Steve to get the shirt off his arms. He’d said the words to Steve many times before this in many different contexts, but he knew Steve heard them the way he meant them this time from the way he pressed another deep soul-drinking kiss to Danny’s mouth. 

“I love you too,” Steve said when he pulled back. He had that smile on his face, the one that was only ever just for Danny. The one that said he was about to poke at Danny hard and enjoy the ensuing fallout regardless of the form it took. "Thought you were gonna blow my mind?" 

Danny laughed, because he knew Steve like nobody knew Steve, and he could already think of a thousand ways to use all that information he’d carefully catalogued for years to make Steve come apart. “If you ever let me out of this shower, I’ll show you.” 

*

Whoever had called Steve distant in bed had been smoking crack, because Steve was warm and alive beneath his palms, full of amusement and so responsive, his nipples stiff buds at the barest brush of his fingertips and gasps pouring easily past his lips. And he liked foreplay, a lot of it, which suited Danny just fine.

Danny knew from experience that Steve didn’t bruise easily, that when he looked battered it was because he’d taken a _hell_ of a beating, but the way that his skin went peachy red from the grain of Danny’s stubble was extremely gratifying. It was like a map of Danny’s body against his own. 

When Danny got his hand on Steve’s cock again, he had to resist the urge to tell him ‘nobody else, ever again,’ and he must’ve ultimately failed, because Steve moaned breathlessly and thrust back against his palm. 

“God what it must be like to fuck you,” Danny told him, tracing over the vein, noting the spurt of precome spilling over the flushed head at his words. Briefly pulling his hand away to spit into his palm he started up a tight wet squeeze of a stroke up and down his shaft that had Steve digging his head back into the pillow, eyes fluttering closed. 

“Yeah, that’s what I want,” he said hoarsely. “Just like that.”

Lifting his head off the pillow to watch Danny’s fist working him, he came like that, almost like it was a surprise to him, eyelashes fluttering, lips parted on great heaving breaths as he came up his own abs. Danny had the brief thought that if they’d shown him a picture of Steve covered in come when he was much younger, it probably wouldn’t have taken them so damn long to get here. 

Later, fingering Steve open, because of course Steve was game to go again, he marveled at the fact that he’d shown up today determined to find someone else to do this for Steve, and how very, very glad he was Steve had had other ideas. Because Danny had murderous tendencies of his own and the thought of anybody else getting to have this was unbearable. 

Steve was hot and tight inside, and he clung so hard to Danny’s fingers, Danny had no idea how he was going to last past a minute once he got his cock in there, and he kept spurring Danny onwards with the same words of encouragement he’d used when they’d run tough mudders and it was too fucking much. Without even thinking Danny smacked a palm across one ass cheek and spread him open, driving his cock in with a brutal thrust that Steve took beautifully. He did that a few times, long slow thrusts to help him learn Steve’s body, before starting up a faster paced rhythm. 

“That’s it, right there,” Steve said, digging his fists into the covers. He rolled his hips back against each thrust inside like he never wanted to let go of Danny’s cock. 

“Got it, got it,” Danny choked out in reply. 

He reached for Steve’s cock, but Steve knocked his hand off. “If I come first it’s all over,” he said regretfully, and therein was definitely one drawback of fucking another man. Steve must’ve seen it on Danny's face, because he smiled. “Go on and get yours, Danno.” 

Danny didn’t need to be told twice. He buried his face in Steve’s throat, hips speeding up even faster, making Steve choke and shudder around him. He could feel Steve’s hard cock bouncing against his abs from the force of his thrusts and suddenly he didn’t care if Steve came first. He wasn’t going anywhere. It’s not like they had one chance at this. 

He reached between them again and Steve didn’t fight him this time, instead dragging in great lungfuls of air and whispering, “oh fuck,” over and over as Danny slammed inside him and jerked him off at the same time. Danny’s own orgasm was hovering at the horizon, he could feel it low in his belly, tightening. He squeezed his eyes shut tight. Just a few more moments, he told his cock, you can do this. 

When Steve came a second time, it seemed to go on forever, cock spurting out come, and hole tightening down around Danny’s cock in rippling pulses, even as he kept moving, fucking Steve through it. His own orgasm hit only moments later, but he’d been staving it off for so long, the intensity of it took him by complete surprise. It felt like he was pouring his entire being out through his cock into Steve. 

He must’ve blacked out for a few seconds, because when he came back to himself, Steve was laughing. He rolled Danny off of him. 

“You okay there, partner?” Steve asked. 

“Huh?” was all Danny managed. Listen, a man came his brains out and he could be forgiven for taking a while to come back online. He had a sudden random thought. “Am I the other woman?” 

“What?” Steve goggled at him.

“Lynn?” 

“Oh,” Steve laughed. “I ended that the night you came onto me while we were waiting in the car.” 

“What now?” Danny asked, sitting bolt upright in bed and Steve hadn’t said anything? He’d just let Danny keep asking stupid questions?

“That was pretty smooth, I gotta say,” Steve said and Danny was about to splutter out a response about how he had very much _not_ been coming onto Steve, when Steve finished, “even if you had no idea that’s what you were doing.” 

Danny was scandalized. Coming onto him? He’d been doing no such thing. He’d been trying to solve a very high priority problem. “I was not mmrph—” 

Steve pulled back from the kiss he’d just used to shut Danny up. “I’m going to enjoy doing that, I think.”


End file.
